The life of a Malfoy
by chocolaterock
Summary: With a swish of the quill, their fates were sealed. There was nothing they could do, except to spend the rest of their lives together. Dramione. AU. Previous title: Hermione Jean Malfoy.
1. Union

**Disclaimer** : I do not own Harry Potter... If I did, Draco and Hermione would be canon.

 **A/N** : My story will kind of follow the some of the original setting (in terms of deaths and some events) of the series, although I will make some changes. I need feeback, so please review afterwards. Enjoy!

 **March 22, 2016 Revamped** the time setting. When I first published this story, I made the basis of the setting on the 21st century, but after thinking about it, I just reverted the basis of the setting back to the 20th century.

* * *

 **May 1998**. The Battle of Hogwarts. The Second Wizarding War. The day Harry Potter, the Chosen One, defeated the most powerful Dark wizard of all time, Lord Voldemort.

 **November 1999**. After appointed as Britain's Minister for Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt, along with Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, and Hermione Granger reformed the Ministry of Magic, and succeeded in reducing corruption and pro-Pureblood laws.

 **December 1999**. Pureblood families who valued the "Pureblood supremacy boycotted" the British Wizarding Community, which caused a sudden economical decline within the Wizarding World.

 **January 2000**. An agreement between the Purebloods and the Ministry was agreed upon to ensure the unity, and most especially economic support of the Wizarding community—a union between a Pureblood and a Muggleborn. All unwed names of the opposing Purebloods, and Muggleborns were entered for a random arranged-union.

 **January 2000**. A week after all names were collected, the first drawing commenced within the Muggleborns. Kingsley Shacklebolt hesitantly announced the name to the public. Hermione Jean Granger.

 **January 2000**. The drawing for the Purebloods commenced, and the name was announced publicly. The opposing Pureblood community were relieved their off-springs would continue on as purebloods, however a tint of displeasure was seen among the reactions, such that their sheep out-for-slaughter was of the Four Noble Houses. The _last_ direct descendant of the Four Noble Houses. Draco Lucius Malfoy.

 **January 2000.** After hours of disagreement of what was to be included within the Union Agreement of the Pureblood-Muggleborn Unity Relations, both parties involved reached consensus. Wedding preparations were handled by Narcissa Malfoy.

 **May 2000.** Family and close friends attended the ceremony. No congratulations offered, no vows uttered, no kisses exchanged... with only the swish of a quill, their union was sealed. Formal photographs were taken for the front page of the Daily Prophet. After all, it was the day Ms. Insufferable Know-it-all became Hermione Jean _Malfoy._

* * *

 **Hermione's POV**

After they've apparated to their villa, Hermione released her grasp on Draco Malfoy's arm. She was thankful that Lucius and Narcissa gave them a place of their own, since she would not want to live in the Malfoy Manor—the place where she was tortured. Though she thought it was likely they bought the villa so they would not have to share a roof with a Muggleborn.

The exterior of the villa was composed of white arched windows and ledgestoned walls washed with white, with pillars supporting the roof. High walled gates protected the land, with shrubs and trees surrounding the gates, shielding the villa from the prying eyes of the neighborhood. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Imprisoned in a forced union, all she can do was make this place a home.

She followed behind Draco Malfoy as he pushed the main doors open, with a house-elf standing aside to greet them.

"Show her to her room." Draco disappeared to left side of the staircase, probably headed to his own chambers, without giving her much more of a second look.

"Right this way, mistress." Hermione followed the elf up the right staircase. Walking past two rooms, they reached the end of the hall. The house-elf pushed the doors open.

"Thank you, mm... what's your name?"

"Spinks is Spinks, mistress. Do not worry to thank Spinks, mistress. Spinks live to serve young master's command. If mistress does not need Spinks, Spinks will go now."

Hermione nodded. As much as she hated having a house-elf, she had to deal with it. All living conditions were to be handled by the Malfoys.

Walking through the door adjacent to her bedroom, she reached down her back to undo the zipper. With the white gown on the floor, and her body clothe in undergarments, her eyes landed on the big mirror, staring at the necklace dangling around her neck. Pools blurred her vision.

Never had she imagined herself to be married this way. Everything was going well after the Second Wizarding War with Ron and Harry by her side. They were able to pass laws to unify Purebloods, Halfbloods, and Muggleborns. But things did not go so well when some Purebloods, who were too proud to be mingling with the rest of society, chose to boycott the community. Agreements were made, then names were chosen.

Long fingers fiddled the silver band linked to the necklace. She was supposed to be Hermione Jean Weasley. They were supposed to get married, have two red-head kids, and live a happy life. Damn Harry for bringing Ron out of country! Damn both of them for buying her ring some place else! Damn him for not keeping up with the Daily Prophet! Damn him for asking her too late!

Her body sunk to the floor as tears spilled from her eyes. She did not like to be married to Draco Malfoy, the boy who tried to make her school life miserable. The boy who bullied her, just because of her blood-something that she can't change. Her union with him was just an agreement—her parents, Harry and Ginny, Molly and Arthur, Luna and Rolf, and Neville attended the ceremony to give her their support. Hermione needed it.

But they were not enough.

She needed him... She needed Ron.

* * *

Hermione stood in front of Draco's room, gathering up the courage to knock on his door. After the wedding last night, they've retired to their own rooms without sparing any last words between each other. She knocked on the door twice.

"Malfoy." Her voice called out, but there was no response. She tried two more times, before she gave up.

Light footsteps echoed throughout the house as Hermione explored each room, leaving Draco Malfoy's room alone. Although the house technically a villa, filled with excquisite furnitures, it felt so empty.

With her hands wrapped around the knob of the last room left to be explored, she turned it. Awed by the books displayed in the room, she walked in, running her hands through the spines of the aged books.

A cough interrupted her thoughts. "Merlin! Malfoy, you startled me!"

"Need something?" Draco raised his platinum eyebrows.

"I-I..." She cleared her throat, "I was looking for you." Hermione swore she saw him roll his eyes, before averting his focus back on the book on his hand. She inwardly scoffed, that bloody git dare roll his eyes on her.

"Now you found me. What do you want?"

"Well Malfoy, just to let you know, I will be out with Ginny."

"Hn."

"Married, my arse." Hermione muttered under her breath, irritated with the rudeness he was giving her. Can't he at least act civil with her? They were going to spend the rest of their lives with each other. Shaking her head in disappointment, she turned to leave his study.

He scoffed loudly, making sure she heard him before she shut the door. "You're a Malfoy too, _Hermione_."

* * *

It was almost a week since Hermione became a Malfoy, but she still wasn't used to people referring her as 'Malfoy', instead of 'Granger.'

What's more was, life in their house was dull. After the whole 'You're a Malfoy too, Hermione _'_ incident, she couldn't bring herself to start a conversation with him. It wasn't that she could not think of any conversations, she just didn't know what to call him. _Draco?_ No. She can't call him by his first name, they weren't even friends!

On top of that, every night she sat opposite of him for dinner, the only time they saw each other, he seemed to always be in a bad mood. Assuming that maybe he was trying hard not to curse at her, for eating on the same table as him, her being a Muggleborn and all, she had to give him props for being somewhat accepting.

Nevertheless, she still could not get herself to rebrand Draco Malfoy—that cocky git witches in Hogwarts fancied over, dubbing him as the 'Slytherin Prince.' Not that she denied his good looks... He just wasn't her type.

It was obvious thay Draco Malfoy has changed... somewhat. He was able to stay in the same room as her, and not throw blood-related curses at her. Much less, he called her by her actual name... which still weirded her out.

Hermione wasn't one to stick to the past—her being an advocate of the bright future ahead of them. It was just weird for Malfoy not to be... well, Malfoy. She knew the Second Wizarding War changed everyone. And it affected everyone, regardless of what side they fought for.

Sighing heavily, work was her only chance to escape the madness. With a position at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, there was never a day it was not 'tedious in the extreme.'

Well overall, there was never a lax day at the Ministry. Even with Voldemort gone, his last surviving Death Eaters were still out there hiding. Moreover, aspiring Dark Wizards were out there, trying to topple Voldemort off as the 'Most Powerful Dark Wizard of All Time.' Good thing that part of the Union Agreement with the Malfoy Family was they provide the Ministry all the names of Voldemort's inner circle, and it was up to Harry and Ron, who were now Aurors, to chase down these Dark Wizards.

Speaking of Ron... Hermione hasn't seen him lately in the Ministry. The last time she'd seen him was February, the day he proposed to her, and the same day he found out that she was to be married off to Draco Malfoy. She slumped over her desk, burying her face on top of her almost done paperwork.

* * *

 **Draco's POV**

Cold water splashed his face to get him back to his senses. Droplets slid from his pale face as he stared at the mirror. No, this was not a dream. Yes, he _is_ married to Hermione Bloody Granger; the bush haired buck-teeth girl he used to pick on for being friends with Potter; the girl he had called Mudblood; the only girl who dared punch his face; and the only person who influenced him to change for the better.

He shivered at that dark memory buried at the back of his mind. Refusing to identify Potter to his family, his Aunt Bella took the route of torturing Granger for the fun of it. As much as he did not like his classmates because of their ideals, especially Granger for her blood status, he was not that heartless to offer them in a silver platter to the Dark Lord. When Bellatrix used the Cruciatus Curse on Granger, she made him watch and listen to Granger's agonizing screams. It was unbearable for him to be in that same room, so he had excused himself, praying to Merlin that Potter would miraculously find a way to escape and get his friends out of the manor.

Drying his face off with a towel, he ran his hand through his damp hair. Little by little the Muggleborn stigma instilled to his upbringing were slowly diminishing—it might be slow, but progress is what counts. It was time to move forward. _She isn't a Mudblood. She's a Muggleborn._ He told himself over and over again.

With everything going in his mind, he hadn't realize that he was in front of her door, ready to knock. Closed fist stopped half-way on the air when he heard whimpers echoing through the door. A pang of guilt shot him. His fist dropped back to his side. Was she crying because she got married to him of all Pureblood Wizards? Was it _that_ bad to be married to him?

A sudden irritation built up in him. She wasn't the only one who lost her freedom, he did too. How could she be so selfish?

And so with a crack, he disapparated away.

* * *

Gray eyes shot open. Silk sheets were drenched with sweat, and his breathing was ragged. Draco sat up and rested his head on both of his hands.

Blood rapidly pumped to his head. "It's just a dream." He spoke to himself, trying to calm himself down.

The room was as dark as when he had come home from his short trip to Blaise a few hours ago. And there was no way he'll be able to sleep it off, seeing that it was almost quarter to 6.

Deciding to get on with the day, he headed to his bathroom to start up his bath, and when it was filled, he submerged himself in. The nightmares started during his sixth year, when he was forced to become a Death Eater. And even with the war finished, he would still get them every now and then.

Oh the price he had to pay, for the sake of saving his family from the Dark Lord.

Draco finished his bath and headed on the ground floor to his study. There was nothing else he could do now except read his worries away.

His concentration was cut abrupt when he heard his door creak open. Hermione Granger walked in his study, browsing through the books tucked into the shelves attacked to the wall. It was obvious she hadn't noticed him yet, so he cleared his throat, successfully grabbing her attention.

"Merlin! Malfoy, you startled me!" She placed her hand on her chest.

 _Malfoy?_ "Need something?"

"I-I..." Hermione stuttered.

He examined her from head to toe, rolling his eyes in process, then proceeded reading Libatius Borage's Advanced Potion-Making section on Alchemy.

"I was looking for you."

Well, that surprised him. "Now you found me. What do you want?"

"Well Malfoy, just to let you know, I will be out with Ginny."

Should he ask her where they were going? Draco opened his mouth, but "Hn," was all that came out.

Before he could say anything else, she turned around to leave, muttering under her breath. "Married, my arse."

That ticked him. How dare she say that when it was her who called him Malfoy, whilst she's considered one. "You're a Malfoy too, _Hermione_."

* * *

Life after Hogwarts was dull. Draco laid on his bed, throwing an inactive snitch up, then catching it back down before it hit his face. The action was repeated numerously, and was tiring him a little, but there was nothing else he could do. For others, being rich was considered a blessing. It gave them the freedom of spending a few galleons, every now and then. But for Draco, being filthy rich was boring the life out of him. It gave him, and probably 10 generations down, the security and comfortability of a carefree life with mountains of galleons to spend. _Should I get a job at the ministry?_ His hand missed the snitch, and it ended up smacking right on his face. _Well, that answers no_. He rubbed his sore face.

The daily life of Draco Malfoy outside Hogwarts was basically a routine.

Sundays revolved around alchemy. He solely read books and manuscripts, to further hone his knowledge into proper application of alchemy.

Mondays were field works. He visited Diagon Alley to look for more alchemy-related manuscripts and books, or Knockturn Alley to browse for dark artefacts to add in his collection.

Tuesdays were socializing days. His circle of closest friend, would visit the appointed host to catch up on whatever life dilemma they were having. Un-Slytherin as this might sound, wizards still need to socialize.

Wednesdays were business-related days. Although he doesn't do manual labor, something only commoners and servants were meant to do, he visited the Malfoy Apothecary, to sign contracts.

Thursdays were quidditch days.

Fridays and Saturdays were his free days. Save for the once a month Saturday meetings of the Sanctus Club, a private prestigious Gentlemen's Club reserved for the upperclass Wizards of the society.

Speaking of the past few days, the atmosphere at the villa was as dull as the manor. With a wife working in the Minsitry, it gave him 'space' for the whole day. But when dinner came, sitting across without talking, felt like his saliva was spoiling in his mouth. It was not that she was ruining his appetite, it was because he hasn't had any proper conversation with her.

Draco sat up his bed, thinking of a way to build a relationship with Hermione. They were going to spend the rest of their lives together, might as well learn how to communicate properly with each other.


	2. Birthday I

**A/N:** What do you guys think of this chapter? I run on feedback :D

 **To my old readers** : I added Draco's POV in the first chapter, so make sure to read that part, because it will be the basis of Draco's future behavior.

* * *

 **Hermione's POV**

It was Sunday, and Hermione was up before dawn. She headed to the kitchen, hoping to fix herself a cup of coffee, not before she was shooed away by the house elves. She had thought that Spinks was the only house elf inside the house, but apparently, the remaining ones acted similarly to Hogwarts' house-elves. Spinks informed her that he would fix her a cup of coffee and some biscuits, and bring it up to her room.

So here she was on the balcony, with robes that kept her body warm, and a cup of freshly brewed coffee to warm her hands, watching the sun break into the horizon—showering the sky with a bright orange hue.

Her concentration was soon directed towards the hoo of an owl, recognizing it as Draco Malfoy's eagle owl as it flew closer, landing right in front of her. Her brows furrowed, eye-ing the owl that held a gold envelope in its beak. She had seen it a few times in Hogwarts, delivering packages and letters to its master. Why would the owl deliver a letter to her, and not directly to its owner? Was her husband not in his room?

Taking a closer look at the envelope, 'Mrs Hermione Jean Malfoy' was written in elegant strokes, with no written sender. One hand took the the letter from the owl, turning to the other side to open it, while the other hand patted the head of the owl. She recognized the Malfoy crest on the wax seal, which surprised her. Was it from the Malfoys, or _the_ Malfoy? She ripped the envelope open, revealing a similar gold stationary tucked in, reading it quickly to see its contents.

It was an invitation to attend a party hosted by Narcissa Malfoy, at the Malfoy Manor, on the 5th of June, which was in a fortnight.

To celebrate Draco Malfoy's 20th birthday.

* * *

Hermione stretched her arms, then proceeded to soothe her aching muscles by patting her sore neck and back. It had been three days since she's received an interdepartmental note from Mr Perkins, the current head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office, about an interesting bundle of scrolls he confiscated from a muggle who was snooping around an old rundown village, which led her to deduce that the muggle was probably a professor or an archaeologist.

On the outside, there was nothing spectacular about the scrolls, the design was plain, save for the small tears here and there. However when the sheets were un-scrolled, the parchment flashed ancient runes, then disappeared, then flashed a new set of runes. Perkins handed the scrolls to Hermione, hoping that the witch might be able to figure out the bewitched scrolls.

From Hermione's observation, although it looked like the parchment flashed a new set of runes every time, the runes shown were similar, just in a different randomized order. After finishing her actual paperwork that was assigned by her _actual_ department, she used the remaining 45 minutes of her 8 work hours for the translation of the scrolls. With a little over 90 minutes spent, in a span of three days, she was able to finish four out of the twenty-one scrolls.

And from the latest scroll that she translated, she worked out who the author was, it was none other than Nicholas Flamel.

* * *

It was Saturday afternoon, which meant that she's been married to Draco Malfoy for three full weeks. Similar to the week before, the only brief exchange they had, as husband and wife, were a few glances during dinner, save for the 'good night' greetings afterwards.

A brief knock echoed through her door. She placed her quill down, and headed towards her door.

Her body met an impact and stumbled a few steps backward.

"'Mione!" Her red head friend hugged her tightly. "It's been ages!"

Hermione giggled, returning the hug back. "Oh Ginny! Don't exaggerate. We've seen each other three weeks ago."

Ginny released Hermione, then walked in the room. "I know, I know." Ginny brushed her off, before settling on the chaise adjacent to the Hermione's desk. "It's just, everything's different now..." The red-heads cheery voice, toned down. "How are you doing anyway?"

Hermione sighed heavily, as she walked towards her desk to pull out her chair, and position it to face Ginny. "I'm fine... I guess. How are you?"

Ginny leaned on the asymmetrical back rest. "Same."

"Ron?"

"Horrible."

Hermione bit her lip.

"You know how he is... He just needs time to adjust."

That didn't help. "That's the thing Ginny. He's had months to process this, but he hasn't talked to me, nor has he shown his face—"

"He proposed to you, only to find out you were to be married off to his nemesis. His heart is broken." The redhead reminded her.

"Merlin, Ginny! Do you think I preferred marrying Malfoy over Ron?" Hermione roared, tears started to pool her brown orbs. Ginny rushed to Hermione's side.

"I know. Sorry 'Mione... I didn't mean to be harsh on you." Ginny rubbed her back. "It's just that he's my brother. I hate seeing him so dull and lifeless. It's like seeing George—" Ginny croaked, trying to keep herself together.

Ginny didn't have to say anything further. Hermione knew that May was the hardest month for the Weasleys. It was the second year of Fred's death anniversary. They lost a lot of comrades. However, Fred's death was something much more. Hermione lost a friend. Ginny lost an older brother. And George... George lost his partner-in-crime and bestfriend. Two years wasn't enough for everyone.

* * *

"I didn't expect my visit would lead to a crying-fest." Ginny chuckled, rubbing her eyes in the process.

Hermione agreed with her. "We both needed it." _I needed it_.

"Anyway, this house... Malfoys sure have an exquisite taste." Ginny slowly bobbed her head, as her brown eyes roamed the room.

"Mm..." Hermione agreed. After all, her in-laws were basically equivalent to the socialites of the Muggle world. "Anyway, how's quidditch?"

"It's been fun. Training's been harsh, but I'm playing at the start of the season. So you better come!" Ginny grinned.

"Congratulations Ginny!" Hermione's smile reached from ear to ear, and was very proud of her friend. This month was not so bad after all, at least her friend was fulfilling her lifelong dream of becoming a professional quidditch player. "And you bet I would! I wouldn't dare miss it!" She hugged her friend.

"Anyway... what have you been doing?" Ginny raised an eyebrow at the bunch of scrolls sprawled over the desk. "Don't tell me you took your work home with you?"

"No, no! These are Nicholas Flamel's old scrolls. Mr Perkins was kind enough to let me translate these, instead of your brother." Hermione tidied up the scrolls.

"Nicholas Flamel? The Alchemist, Flamel?" Ginny eyes widened with excitement. The red-haired witch has heard stories of her brother's little adventure with Harry and Hermione during their first year in Hogwarts, concerning a powerful red stone made by a certain someone.

Hermione laughed, heading towards her dresser to fetch a cardigan. "Yes dear, that Nicholas Flamel."

"Can I have a copy of whatever you have on Flamel? Please?" Ginny followed Hermione like a lost puppy, tugging Hermione's sleeve in the process.

"Wha—" Hermione pried Ginny's hands off from over-stretching her sleeves. "Okay, okay. I can't guarantee that Mr Perkins will allow me to keep a full translated copy, but I'll try to get you what I can."

"Thank you!"

The two witches left Hermione's room, making their way to the front door of the house.

"I didn't know you were a fan of Flamel."

"Well, it would be quite an honor for me to read his work, since none of his works—"

"Have actually been published. Right."

"Right! He hadn't published any of his alchemical works, and when he died 8 years ago, all his manuscripts collected by the Ministry burned into flames. He must have hexed those to be connected to his life line."

"Which is the right thing to do. Merlin knows what might happen, if one were to recreate the infamous philosopher's stone, and raise some dark wizard back from the grave."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Whatever you say 'Mione. I still want a copy."

"I'll _try."_ Hermione grinned, before they disapparated to the Lovegood house, with her last thought about a certain someone's present.

* * *

 **Draco's POV**

It was the morning of his birthday—an hour before noon, Draco headed to his walk-in wardrobe to change to his all-black tailored three piece English suit, slipping into black oxford shoes, then tucking in a dark green handkerchief on the suit pocket, and pinned a small Malfoy Crest Pin on his lapels. He reached out and swished his wand, without the need to mutter a spell, which finished off his look by magically fixing his black tie around his neck. He ran his hands through his blonde hair, not needing much attention as it was in its usual sleek style.

Malfoys have had a long line of narcissistic wizards, who not only cared about blood, power, and wealth, but the overall presentation of one's self. Of course, it would be in his blood to look better than everyone. He wasn't just given the Malfoy-look to hide it, it was meant to be flaunted.

Satisfied with his overall wardrobe, he was ready to disapparate to the Malfoy Manor, but was disrupted by a knock on his door. Waving his wand, the door opened to reveal the unexpected. His wife stood there, dressed in what he assumed to be muggle formal attire, which was simple yet sophisticated.

Draco was about to question her, what she was doing here, or if she knew if it was his birthday, but his questions never left his mouth, since she had beaten him by answering his _un-asked_ questions.

"It's your birthday isn't it? I've been wondering when your birth date was, but your mother sent me an invitation two weeks ago. I didn't know I needed an invitation to attend your 20th celebration..."

"You never asked, so I never brought it up." Draco brushed her off. She had no right to make him feel guilty, and her doing so wouldn't make him _feel guilty_. He shouldn't have to explain how it was tradition in all wizarding families for the host to have the luxury of who and not to invite, even if it concerned the celebrant's family. She should know, since she was the one who married into a _Pureblood_ family. And didn't she read those mountain piles of wizarding history books just to prove that she could fit in _their_ world? His mother was hosting his 20th celebration, so it was up to her who to invite.

Hermione's brows furrowed. He knew that she was riled up by his reply, and he didn't care. No one had the right to ruin his mood, especially during his birthday. "Let's go." He held out his arm, and she hesitantly took it. He rolled his eyes, and in a loud crack, they apparated outside the gates of the Malfoy Manor.

* * *

Unlike his previous birthday themes, this year marked the first mature theme. Silver and green lanterns, intricately sculpted in different patterns, were suspended in different levels in the air to brighten the room. Silver drapes adorned the three pointed arch windows, separating the view of the manor grounds, from the ball room. The orchestra played elegantly, filling the ball room with sophisticated music. The cuisine served were made of the best ingredients by the Malfoy house-elves.

Draco was too absorbed in his conversation with Theo and Blaise, when his mother gave him a signal of a 'come here' look. He excused himself from his friends, and went over to his mother who were with the newly arrived guests.

"—here's Draco. Excuse me." And with that, his mother left him alone with the Slytherin witches. In front of him stood Pansy Parkinson, Daphne Greengrass, and the younger Greengrass.

"Happy birthday Draco." Pansy and Daphne greeted him with a hug.

"Thanks." He eyed the younger Greengrass who was shrinking away beside Daphne.

"Oh, this is my sister Astoria." Daphne cleared her throat, nudging her sister to the side. "She's a year younger than us."

"Happy birthday D-Dra— Malfoy," she said while reaching out to hug him like Pansy and Daphne, but stopped when Draco held out his hand for her to shake. Embarassed by her actions, Astoria shook his hand, then tucked her loose brown hair under her ear.

Pansy snickered at the scene, and earned an elbow to the side, with a glare from her friend. She knew Draco was not comfortable with any physical contact with anyone outside his inner circle.

Draco eyed the two witches. "What's wrong?"

"Well, little Astoria here—" Pansy was cut off when Daphne casted a quick _Silencio_ on her.

"Don't mind Pansy." Daphne tucked her wand back in her wand pouch. "Oh wait! There's Nott and Zabini. Come, Pansy. It's been so long since we've seen those blokes." Daphne dragged the muted brunette behind her, leaving Draco with the younger Greengrass.

Draco stared at the retreating figures. He knew there was something going on, but he just couldn't point it out. It was given that he was smart, he was _sadly_ ranked second in his year, and was a prefect in Hogwarts—but one thing he could never understand were girls.

The younger Greengrass fiddled with her dress continuously, making ruffling sounds that annoyed him. "Stop that." He said in an order type of tone.

The witch nodded, but continued to squirm under his gaze.

Draco observed the younger girl. She was tall, but a few inches shorter than him. She had softer features that her sister, with a heart-shaped face, pointed nose, and high cheekbones, framed by long straight hair. Her dress hugged her in the right places, hinting a well-proportioned body. Yet, why was she squirming?

"Greengrass," she stiffened. "Are you uncomfortable in those robes? You keep squirming around, and it's annoying the hell out of me."

The Greengrass witch turned red, as if she was about to turn into a tomato. "I-I... I'll get some refreshments." She hurriedly left him alone.

Blaise, Theo, Pansy, and Daphne appeared beside him, watching the younger Greengrass' back.

"Ouch." Blaise feigned hurt, dramatically placing his hand over his chest.

"Way to go prick." Daphne sarcastically, then left the group to follow her sister.

Draco glared at his friends. "What did I do?"

"And here I thought I was the heartbreaker." Blaise commented, which Pansy snickered to.

"You should leave your Hogwarts days behind, mate." Said Theo.

"It's not good to reminisce your glory days." Added Draco.

Pansy smirked mockingly at the dark-skinned Italian. "It wouldn't really be called glory, if he hasn't bedded Weasley."

Blaise reverted to his stoic nature. "Sod off Parkinson. No one asked for your opinion." Pansy huffed then left the trio to rejoin her friend.

"Pansy's still bitter with you mate?" Draco knew of Pansy's resentment towards Blaise. During their secondary school days, Pansy moved on to fancying Blaise Zabini, after her puppylove crush on him—not that he cared for their drama, he was busy with Death Eater-related activities during his last few year. However, Blaise never much spared a look at her, considering her as a clingy pug-faced witch.

Blaise scrunched his face in disgust. "That moose," referring to Pansy, "trying to associate me with that filthy blood traitor." Blaise shut his mouth realizing what he just said. "Look mate—"

"Don't." Draco shrugged his shoulders, stopping his friend mid-sentence. He knew Blaise's behavior towards blood traitors, and was aware of his friends' distraught for him when they found out about his forced union. They weren't avid Voldemort supporters, but that didn't mean that they favored associating with muggle-borns and muggles. Opening a sullen topic was depressing, so it was better to just close the topic. Their conversation led back to their previous topic—before Draco left his friends to welcome Pansy and the Greengrass sisters.

Although he wouldn't admit feeling a little bit irritated regarding Blaise's comment, the young Malfoy's thoughts went to his wife. Grey eyes wandered through the crowds, trying to catch a glimpse of his muggle-born wife, whilst nodding every now and then, appearing to be engaged in the conversation. He was not worried that she would not fit in, he was positive she wasn't going to fit in, seeing that she was the only muggle-born guest in a pureblood celebration. Though he had to at least make sure that she was fine, since he hasn't seen her after they've parted ways two hours ago, because if something were to happen to her, the Malfoy name would be all there to blame.

He spotted loose brunette waves dancing in the air. She was in the balcony, and appeared to be engaged in a conversation with someone. Suddenly, he saw her laugh from ear to ear, a behavior he had only seen when she was with Potter and Weasley. It piqued a sudden interest at the guest who did not care to be seen associating with a muggleborn. He smoothly craned his neck to get a glimpse of the guest.

The other person was a tall, sallow young man, with dark hair and eyes, and a built that out-rivaled his own. It was Viktor Krum.


End file.
